Hermione's List Of New Year's Resolutions
by OogieBoogie
Summary: Hermione was all about organisation. And she was also about lists. She thought it was about time she jumped on this New Year, New Me rubbish and list down her New Year's Resolutions. Somehow, there was one thing in common: they all seem to have something to do with Draco Malfoy.
1. Resolution Number One

Hello! Warmest greetings, and Happy New Year to you all. I cannot believe it has been exactly three years since I thought I had left FanFiction for good, never to write again. But alas, your passion has a funny way of coming back to you. It was on a trip back to the city that I work in, that I got the inspiration for this story. I will be putting them up in short chapters ... There is nothing truly concrete about this story as yet (but you know how the story writes itself, in the end), and it's more like a fresh start into what I hope to be frequent writing and uploading of new stories. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy.

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Hermione had always been about organisation – to-do lists, charts, planners, memos, post-its coded in colour and such – and so, it had come as a surprise that she had never indulged in a New Year's resolutions list at all. Like, ever. In her now-27 years of living.

And so it came to her, during one of her drab morning commutes to the Ministry that she would have at it. _No pressure, really,_ she told herself. She had never bought into the whole New Year, New Me tripe, but she suddenly felt like she needed this. As guidance. As a pointer in life, so to speak.

From now on, her life isn't just going to be merely about work anymore, she decided, and no more taking off from work just to anxiously and stressfully think about work on an island or a different country.

So then, one day after the New Year's, the 2nd of January, she had come back to a relatively empty office with no one but her overbearing boss as company. With absolutely nothing to do (she had finished up her work way before she took off for Christmas and New Year's, efficient as she is – or rather, in a purposeful attempt to make way for more work and anxiety after she comes back), she penned down 9 very basic things for her to try. She had yet to think about the 10th one, but she was sure it was going to come to her when the time is right.

 **One. Learn to say no.**

Saying no was something Hermione had always had difficulty with. It somehow had never registered in her vocabulary, or her personality – and multiple times she began to think she was becoming a pushover. Which was something she did not quite like. It was perhaps, one of the reasons why a lot of work got handed to her instead of the other 50 strong people at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Yes, she was fighting to take over. Yes, she had goals. But no, it was bad for her mind and body, and her social life suffered. It was time to say no.

"Oh, ah!" her boss, Ilyssa Fyfe – a short, stout lady with dirty blonde hair and button features with smudged eyeliner and fuschia lipstick – exclaims and jumps up at her seat, the second her foot passes the threshold to her office at Level 4. "Miss Granger! Would you come here for a minute, please?"

Inwardly rolling her eyes but plastering the most relaxed smile she could possibly muster, on she walks towards her boss' desk.

"Yes Miss Fyfe?" she asked, voice higher in pitch than usual, as she unfurls her scarf from her neck.

"Well, I was wondering … there is this huge project that we would like you to take over …" Fyfe begins, and Hermione immediately interjects.  
"Who is we?" she asks, fighting the urge to narrow her eyes.  
"Ah, well, um, does that matter?" Fyfe laughs furtively, looking here and there, pretending to sift through papers that looked nowhere near important. She finally glances up at Hermione, who by this time, is sporting an impassive expression. Then, she folds. "Oh, alright! This was the department's decision. Mine, and the rest of your colleagues. Of course, this was backed up by the Minister. He has nothing but absolute faith in you."

This time, Hermione really has trouble fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Of course, you all do," Hermione replies, smiling sarcastically.

"Honestly, it's good for you, Miss Granger. Think of what it would look like on your resume, should you choose to venture out – by all means, please do not, that was just a joke, I hope you're not ever thinking of leaving us!" Fyfe says in a rush. "But as I've said, you are the most capable employer I have ever had the pleasure of working with, and as such, we can always trust you and rely on you to get things done."

Hermione waits, and Fyfe glances at her once more before continuing.

"I'm not entirely sure if you've heard but we are doing some … spring cleaning of the entire Ministry. While everyone's surely busy keeping their own, you have a far greater, important task at hand," Fyfe says, and finally sits.

Hermione thinks she is presumptuous, she hasn't even said yes yet.

"We need someone to properly catalogue, record and write a report on our department's findings since year 1888. Since the establishment of our department," Fyfe says gravely, lacing her fingers together and squeezing at a random intervals.

"You want someone to study all the records we've had, refurbish them and write a lengthy report on all findings for the last …" Hermione pauses, and calculates, "130 years?"

"Yes! See, I knew you were quick about your wits! Clearly the brightest witch of our age!" Fyfe says, fisting the air triumphantly. Although triumphant about what, Hermione isn't sure.

"Well, Miss Fyfe, I am truly honoured to be considered to undertake this …" Hermione trails, and sighs out the following word, "Important task … but I must say –"

"Oh, we also need it by end of the first quarter of the year," Fyfe adds, sipping her coffee, effectively staining her two front teeth with pink pigments as she smiles at Hermione again.

"That's quite a short timeframe, don't you think?"

"Exactly. Which brings us to the matter of _why_ we decided to go for you as I've mentioned. You're the fastest –"

But Hermione doesn't listen. The gears in her brain are turning feverishly. Calculations, thoughts, implications of saying yes to this job on top of her already busy line-up, possible social and mental ramifications.

" – most reliable –"

Clearly nobody even bothered to take this up and it was down to her.

" – everyone agrees, you do every single job wonderfully –"

That would mean longer hours at work, longer _nights_ at work and possibly weekends at work just doing all this re-archiving.

" – you'd be helping us all out. There is no budget to hire an external archiver –"

At what cost?

" – so you are the only one – "

"No," Hermione finally responds.

And then there is pin drop silence. Fyfe looks at her in shock – nearly scandalised, even – and clears her throat.

"I - I beg your pardon?" Fyfe asks sweetly, as if she didn't hear Hermione correctly.

"No, Miss Fyfe, I am unable to take this job," Hermione sniffs, stopping herself from apologising for something that is her absolute right. "I am not up to it."  
"B-but Miss Granger … Hermione," her look softens, "You're quite adept at multitasking and organising, I am sure you would be –"

"Unable to take this on," Hermione finishes, her voice slightly louder than Fyfe's. "Taking this job would mean that I would have to sacrifice a substantial amount of my personal time – which is starting to show bad repercussions on my person. So I am thinking for myself, and in turn, for the betterment of the company. If I am, as the company says, an asset to it and the Ministry as a whole, they would at least respect that."

Fyfe still has that scandalised look on her face, mouth opening and closing as if fish out of water. It is a natural reaction Hermione expected. This was, after all, the first time she said said no. The old Hermione would have jumped at the chance to prove herself, to be the number one. But that was 2017 Hermione. 2018 Hermione would not, and can not stand for this shit.

"So, no, Miss Fyfe. I cannot do it. I already have a lot on my plate, as you know, because you're the one who assigns them to me," Hermione nods, "If the Ministry has no budget then perhaps it can consider hiring those who have very minimal tasks. If I may suggest, Brothaigh and MacGille would spare enough time to do it, between them loafing around at the cafeteria or going out for a fag at least 50 times a day."

Fyfe swallows.

"I hope you understand," Hermione smiles sweetly, finally the triumphant one. "Is that all?"  
"V-very well," Fyfe nods slowly, "That is all. Thank you, Miss Granger."  
"No, thank you, Miss Fyfe," Hermione says, enunciating the words very carefully, "For understanding."

Hermione turns around, finally unable to keep the glee in and grins.

Off she walks down the hallway, towards the ladies'.  
Here, she catches sight of one Mr Draco Malfoy, fantastically black robes swishing dramatically behind him, seemingly too busy to look up from his papers even as he walks on, nearly crashing into her.

"Well, hello, Malfoy!" she greets, still grinning, "Happy New Year to you!"

Malfoy pauses, raises a blond eyebrow at her and tucks his papers beneath his armpit.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, though a slight smile was playing at his thin lips, "Someone's in a cheerful mood. Had a good holiday, I presume?"

"Something like that," Hermione grins harder – still giddy at her simple victory. She was normally civil around Malfoy, putting their past behind, but never one to actually greet and wish him merriments.

"Alright, what gives?" Malfoy cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes, "What has got into you? Did work finally get to your mind? I hear you're quite the overachiever."

"Not anymore," she shrugs, "Well, as of just now, no."

Malfoy begins to look increasingly confused.

"You have a good day, Malfoy," she says to him, finally, and clutches the knob of the ladies' room.

"Thanks?" Malfoy replies, and Hermione disappears into the loo.

New Year's Resolution Number One – check.


	2. Resolution Number Two

**Two. Pay it forward.**

Hermione once watched the Muggle movie, 'Pay It Forward', where one good deed of doing something nice for someone else allowed for a chain reaction of endless other good possibilities for many other people. Of course, the movie did take a dark turn, but Hermione dismisses that easily, inspired enough by good deeds because she knew that it wouldn't just make someone else feel, it would make herself feel good too.

Right now, Hermione is feeling good because she knows Number Two on the list is fairly easy to pull off. She'll just march into the cafe one block away from the Ministry to get her croissant and coffee, and simply just pay for someone behind her.

She does love easy successes.

Diligently and neatly lining up behind a portly man, she surveys the menu of the cafe that is still bedecked with Christmas ornaments.

"One plain croissant and a flat white, please," Hermione tells the person behind the counter, and proceeds to pull out her purse.  
"Right away, madam," the young girl with a pixie cut responds, "Anything else?"  
"Ah, I would also like to pay for the person behind me, please," she says, leaning in surreptitiously.

The girl looks at her curiously, and then behind her, and nearly blushes. Whatever for, Hermione doesn't bother asking.

"Friend of yours?" Pixie says, cheeks reddening slightly as she writes it down on a parchment and waves her wand before her items come floating, as she kept glancing behind Hermione.  
"Not at all," Hermione says, suddenly impatient, "Thought I might do something nice for a stranger."

"Understood," Pixie smiles bashfully now. Hermione frowns a little, but throws a couple of Galleons on the counter, believing it to be enough to cover for at least one more person. She picks up her things and walks off briskly, aiming to sit at the little fountain nearby (frozen now due to winter), and enjoy her breakfast.

She hums to herself, and takes a slow walk, finally relishing in the fact that she has no business walking into the office an hour earlier than the set time just to start on some stupid project. She should have said no more frequently. But no matter, nothing matters but the present.

"Granger!" a distant voice calls out. "Oi, Granger!"

She is broken out of her blissful, less-work reverie, and turns around.

Malfoy is marching towards her, that same look of confusion on his aristocratic face. He looks stoic, and as if he isn't walking very fast and exerting himself. The only tell-tale sign of his speed is the puffs of air escaping through his nose only made seen by the cold weather.

"Good morning to you too," Hermione says, after he catches up, "How can I help you, Malfoy?"

"Did you just buy me breakfast?" he asks suddenly.

"What?" Hermione blinks.

"At the cafe, you bought me breakfast. The lady behind the counter told me that the person in front of me bought me breakfast – between giggles," Malfoy explains, "She told me just as you were leaving but I'd recognise that mess of a head of hair anywhere, even from behind."

Hermione huffs out a laughter.

"It was you, that was behind me?" she asks, surprised.

"Yeah, did you not know?" He arches a blond brow, and he brushes a bit of snow away from his stylishly dishevelled platinum hair.

"Not at all, I just told the lady I wanted to get the bill for the person behind me," Hermione says simply, shrugging and continuing to walk. Malfoy, surprisingly, follows suit and falls into step next to her, clutching a paper bag and a steaming on-the-go cup.

"Why?" he asks, opening his paper bag and releasing his, also croissant, from its confines. He takes a bite and chews, staring at her, still expecting an answer. Hermione examines him – a far cry from the snobby, stuck-up and restrained boy she knew from school – now, a relaxed, successful lawyer at the International Magical Office of Law at the Ministry. She decides she likes this new Malfoy, even if she doesn't know him.

"One of my new year's resolutions is to pay it forward," Hermione shrugs, as they reach the frozen fountain.  
"By buying someone breakfast?" he asks, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

"By doing something nice for a stranger, I guess," Hermione states easily.

Malfoy suddenly smirks, and then says, "It doesn't have to be that way, you know."

"Doesn't have to be what way?"  
"I don't have to be a stranger to you," Malfoy licks the side of his lips, presumably to catch stray crumbs, but Hermione blinks at the movement.

"Well, I …" Hermione fumbles, watching Malfoy watching her in amusement.  
"See you around, Granger, I've got an early case," Malfoy excuses himself and begins to walk. Hermione watches his back, and he suddenly tosses his arm into the air and shouts, "Thank you for breakfast! I am most certain I will return the favour. To you, specifically."

Hermione lets out a confused smile, doesn't think too much about it and goes to sit by the fountain.

New Year's Resolution Number Two – check.


	3. Resolution Number Three

**Three. Get fit.**

By far her least favourite thing on the list, Hermione stares down at item number three, as if looking at it hard enough would make the words go away and be replaced with something easier to do. But she is too far in, she thinks, especially since she had gone out of her way during a lunch break one Wednesday to purchase actual sports clothing. It is a Saturday now,and ten days since she bought them. It is time to break it in and finally put it to good use.

She travels – or rather, jogs along the streets of Muggle London in hopes of not dying before she reaches somewhere else for brunch before perhaps taking the tube back. She didn't plan this carefully, and decides to just go with it. Inserting her earbuds and warming up for a bit (to behonest, she doesn't know what she is doing), she starts an easy jog.

Huh, this isn't too bad, Hermione thinks to herself. After a lengthy time, and multiple struggles toget sufficient air, she silently comments on the stupid songs that began playing on her Spotify.

What started out as Funky Jams became some psychedelic trance music, which was seriously throwing her off kilter in terms of movement. Rummaging in her pocket and finally procuring her mobile phone, she frowns as she tries to concentrate between continuing her runningmomentum and finding the perfect song to jog to. She can see that brunch place now, so shewould want to walk into it dramatically to the beat of a good song.

Next, next, next – what the fuck is this? Next, next ...

 _SMACK_!

She collides into something bulky and hard and solid, which knocks her off her feet and has hernearly falling on her bum. Her headphones violently rip from her ear and she struggles to focusto regain her bearings.

"Oh, sorry!" she manages to voice out despite the minor disconcert. She expects another 'sorry', as the British would always do – sorry for everything under the sun, even if it isn't exactly your fault.

She makes eye contact with familiar grey eyes, and recognition hits the both of them at the same time.

"Granger." "Malfoy."

Malfoy speaks first: "Do you make it a habit of running into people, Granger?" he drawls with no hint of malice. He has on a very nice navy blue wool trench coat, black trousers and a white shirt on, unbuttoned at the top – which gives him a charming done-but-undone look.

Hermione huffs, both in attempt to catch her breath and laugh at the same time.

"Not actually, no. Just strange how it seemed to be you," she says, twirling her headphones around her phone, deciding that that is enough jogging for the day, considering the brunch joint was just across the road.

"What's with the outfit?" Malfoy gestures, as he looks her over and contemplates her sweaty face and no doubt frizzy hair in a tight ponytail. "Ah, you're exercising."

"Yes, well, not everyone can look good as you without trying, Malfoy," Hermione blurts without thinking and instantly looks up, wincing.

Malfoy pauses and grins like a shark.

"My, my, if I didn't know better I'd think you were flirting with me, Granger," he says, tongue-in-cheek. "But thank you for the compliment."

Hermione shrugs it off, thinking well, it is true that he looks good. Girls at the Ministry say that, Hermione included.

"Indeed, you should teach me how to lose the extra meat," she suggests, hands on her hips now, breathing finally evening out.

And just like that, Malfoy reaches out and squeezes her on the arm. She follows the movement from the side of her eye, but still pays attention to what he says next, "I don't know about other people, Granger, but I do prefer my women with a bit of meat."

It was her turn to pause, and then shake her head in silent laughter.

"My, my, if I didn't know I'd think you were flirting with me, Malfoy," she crosses her arms now, cocking her hips slightly.

"If you think so," Malfoy replies easily – vaguely – and looks around. "Speaking of meat, you must be famished after unnecessarily burning those calories."

"I am, actually. Planning on going there," she points to the brunch spot, The Black Penny.

"Fancy brunch together, then?" Malfoy says, eyeing her seriously.

"What?"

"Come on, then," he gestures with his head, "I still owe you a meal – from many months ago."

"Ah, right, so you're claiming it now," Hermione smirks, but she isn't averse to the idea.

"That, and I'm simply asking you to lunch because you're here, I'm here and it was me that you chose to crash into," Malfoy shrugs, and laughs as Hermione rolls her eyes.

"Fine, Malfoy, but I'm going to order the most expensive thing on the menu," she says pointedly, as they both start to cross the street together.

New Year's Resolution Number Three – check. It counts.


	4. Resolution Number Four

**Four. Enjoy good food.**

Hermione thinks hard as soon as she is handed the menu, by another waitress, who also sent Malfoy shy looks. She wants to say something about how distracting Malfoy is, but she probably has embarrassed herself enough today already … and plus, there are bigger things to worry about - such as what the hell to order after a good workout session? Her legs are already burning, itching and wobbly, and she knows she is going to feel that tomorrow.

But then, poring over the menu, she finds nothing that screams 'post-workout meal'. It was all heavy breakfasts, steaks, burgers, fries … Gosh, but they do look tempting. She frowns. It is part of her list to enjoy good food whenever the occasion calls for it, but would it pass to do it so soon after a workout - one's first workout in, well, ages at that?

She frowns harder, and Malfoy notices.

"What's the matter?" he casually asks, glancing up from his menu.  
"Nothing, I just …" Hermione begins and then rolls her eyes, "What's the best thing on the menu?" she asks the waitress who, surprisingly, did not leave their side at all.

"That would be our signature dish, madam. The Heavenly Sinful Burger," she replies promptly, beaming at Hermione, who laughs at this.  
"How can one thing be heavenly yet sinful at the same time?" Hermione asks, and the waitress just shrugs. "Fine, I'll have that then."

Screw diets, eh? She can start again tomorrow. Or the day after … how about never? No, no, no. This is part of her list!

"Wow, Granger, didn't think you'd be the type to have a good appetite," Malfoy smiles at the waitress after giving her his order and she slinks away happily.

"Well, normally I don't, but it's another one on my new year's resolutions to enjoy good food," Hermione replies, taking in the view of the cafe once more. "Do you often eat out, Malfoy?"

Silence for a few seconds. Malfoy still doesn't respond.  
She looks at him, and finds that he is sporting the cheekiest grin ever, eyes shining with mirth.

"What?" Hermione asks.  
"Nothing, just the way you phrased the question," Malfoy shakes his head, tearing the napkin away from his plate and unfolding it to lay across his lap.  
"What? I just asked you if you - _oh_!" Hermione groans and buries her head in her hands, and the next few words come out muffled, "You dirty-minded twit!"  
"Not at all, Granger," Malfoy laughs, a nice, musical and genuine laughter, "If anything, you're the dirty-minded one, asking me such a question in public, and so loudly at that. What if someone hears?"

Malfoy still chuckles on, even as his tea arrives.

"But to answer your question," Malfoy answers, as soon as Hermione lifts up her face - she is giving him a wry look, the corner of her mouth twitching - "I do, actually. I like … eating out."

And then he laughs again, and Hermione rolls her eyes.

"Grow up, Malfoy," she snaps.

"Oh, I have, _Hermione_ ," Malfoy suddenly says, "I think it's high time that we put all these formalities and surnames thing aside, what do you think?"

Hermione blinks at this, and narrows her eyes, "First, you tell me that you're a big fan of eating out, and now you're suggesting first name basis! Whatever do you want from me, Draco?"

Draco grins at her again, and says cryptically, "Oh, you'll never be able to handle it."

"Okay, now what does that mean?" Hermione asks.

"Nothing. Food's here," Draco announces, as the same waitress returns with his eggs benedict, and Hermione's plate of a …mammoth of a burger. It is huge, yes, and it looks oh-so-divine with its perfect and smooth buns, and sinful at the same time with its juicy patties (at least 3 in there, hidden amongst a wonderful array of colourful sauces and ketchup).

"Wow," Draco says what is on her mind first. "Looks amazing."  
"You can have some, if you like," she says, getting her fork and knife, figuring out the ways through which she can get the best part without dropping anything.

"You know that's going to work," Draco says, as he takes a graceful bite out of his fork. "Use your hands, Hermione."

Hermione doesn't argue and instead, is thankful for the suggestion. She puts aside her fork and knife, and rubs her hand in glee and excitement, mouth positively watering.

She grabs the burger with both her hands, aims for her mouth, opens wide and takes a huge first bite. She chews and ...

Moans.

"OHHHHHH," she groans loudly, and several other people turn to look at her. She doesn't care, her eyes are shut, and she is indulging in this glorious, glorious burger. " _Oh, god._ "

She takes another bite, and then repeats, " _Mmmm!_ "

She sighs after a while, sets the burger down on the plate, opens her eyes and quietly says, "That is so good."

But _Draco_ , doesn't seem to have registered what she just said. Instead, he is watching her with an unfathomable look, with a half-amused smile, eyes gleaming as his fork and knife hang mid-air between his fingers.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione raises a brow, moving her hands to get ready to grab her burger once more.

"That is the dirtiest look I have ever seen on a woman outside of a bedroom," he says blatantly, taking another bite of his brunch, still meeting her gaze head on.

Hermione flushes, and then shakes her head, "I'm sure you'd know."  
"Oh, I know," he grins, chewing slowly. "I know."

"It's just that this burger is amazing, you should try it," Hermione clears her throat, and hands him the plate.

"Oh, no thank you," he says, not even looking at the burger, "I'd much rather watch you enjoy it. It's quite the experience. By all means, carry on."

Hermione shrugs lazily and then whispers, "All the more for me", before digging in once more.

Draco watches her for the rest of the meal, as if thinking loads, but never says anything until after they are done with their meals.

"You know," Draco says, as they both sip on tea, "I know this place which serves the most delicious food, ever. Care to accompany me one day?"

Hermione locks eyes with him and nods.

Resolution Number Four - check, and check.


End file.
